The Triptych
by FaeMelody
Summary: They called themselves The Triptych. No one knew who they were, or where they'd come from.


They called themselves The Triptych.

No one knew who they were, or where they'd come from. Two men and a woman, all with ebony hair that they kept in varying lengths and styles. All wearing black, all the time.

They had first appeared in New York, performing on the streets. They never appeared in the same place twice in a row, and they never announced where they would be next. They were well known for destroying hecklers, and often providing- through their acts- money or food to the poorer people who had stopped to watch them. They just turned up, performed, dazzled the crowd and then vanished.

The strange thing was, however, that no matter how hard any of the audience tried they could never recall what their faces looked like.

A few months after they first appeared, a manager for a trendy uptown club saw them perform. A week later, they entertained the patrons of the club for the first time. They were so popular that the manager offered them a six-week contract on the spot.

After those six weeks, The Triptych were well known amongst a certain crowd and in high demand. Club after club requested them- no one knew how they decided which they would perform at, but they appeared repeatedly at some and not at others.

It was a year later when the owner of the club they had been performing at requested that they appear at his club in Miami. Over the course of twelve months, The Triptych performed in multiple clubs up and down the eastern seaboard, until they were offered the contract of a lifetime.

A show in Las Vegas, at one of the most popular hotels. They agreed, performing incredible feats in front of a mesmerised crowd. A crowd which consisted of tourists from across the world, catapulting the illusionists into worldwide fame.

Questions were raised about the mysterious performers. Who were they, where had they come from and- perhaps most commonly- what did they look like?

No one, not even the people who hired them, knew the answers.

They were in high demand, performing at hotels, clubs and resorts across Las Vegas. They refused any contracts with exclusivity clauses, and anyone who attempted to force them to do anything soon found themselves losing their fortunes and reputations through strange tricks of fate. Whispers started, whispers that said that The Triptych were dangerous, that crossing them led to certain ruin.

These whispers attracted the attention of a select group of people who resented the sudden appearance and success of the trio. Yet, strangely, any attempts on their part to rectify the situation met with failure. Their lives would fall apart; they would lose their money, their families and their resources. Their reputations would be shattered by uncomfortable and dark truths, or occasionally outright lies that were difficult, if not impossible to disprove.

And word went out- The Triptych are to be left alone.

The audiences who watched the often seemingly impossible show attributed the mild headaches they occasionally developed afterwards to an overindulgence of alcohol, or the noise of the cheers and applause afterwards. And those who had dirty little secrets to hide attributed the sudden loss of money and certain bodily facilities to simply bad luck, or mistakes on the part of their banks and doctors. The police attributed the sudden tips they received on criminals to random witnesses who had had a change of heart about coming forward and reporting their suspicions.

Twelve months later, and a TV station had caught wind of the mysterious trio who were performing in some of the most select venues in Vegas. After several more months of negotiations, they announced an exclusive televised performance at the Rio Las Vegas hotel. The programme was so popular, it was broadcast to millions around the world in the months afterwards and The Triptych soon announced a world tour; over the course of a year, they planned to perform in dozens of countries to audiences of all ages and backgrounds; the tickets were as cheap as they could be. When ticket sellers tried to inflate the prices, they found their computers crashed, their phones disconnected for no apparent reason and a string of bad luck followed them through their professional and personal lives.

It hadn't escaped people's notice that no one knew what The Triptych looked like. Anyone who tried to remember, couldn't. Photographs came out blurry or dark, and recordings seemed to fail without explanation.

The Triptych were a mystery, and it only made them more popular.

Nobody paid much to the three passengers who landed in London from Paris in mid December. Dressed in black, they kept to themselves, not bothering the flight attendants and not communicating even with each other. If someone had been watching closely, however, they would have noticed that occasionally, one would smile seemingly at nothing. A moment later, another would glance at a third and their eyes would meet for a long moment, before they turned back to their respective books and notepads. If that same someone had continued watching, they would have realised that the girl reading the book hadn't turned a page during the entire flight.

The three landed in England and moved quickly through the airport. dressed in their customary black, the two boys flanking the girl. A set of green, blue and brown eyes scanned the area around them as they moved; none had luggage with them and within the hour, they were in a taxi on their way to their hotel.

It would be several hours before they emerged again; their first show in London began that night and it was an undeniable hit- they astounded the crowd, befuddled the professionals who were watching in the hopes of catching the trio out and became a sensation amongst those who had seen them. And after the show, just as always, the trio simply melted into the night. They weren't seen leaving, nor had they been seen arriving. No interviews or autogrpahs were given- but in the next few days, children who had attended the performance would be delighted to find a photo in their pocket.

Taken during a show the previous year, it showed The Triptych on stage in the middle of an act. Flames and smoke cast shadows that obscured the details of their faces; their bodies were silhouetted against the light and it seemed as if, at any moment, those silhouettes would come alive and the roar of the flames would accompany the buffeting heat.

And on the back, a personalised message. About things the trio couldn't have known about, yet somehow did. From minor tests at school to treatment for major illnesses, they knew everything and would write encouraging messages that always ended with the phrase ' _With Love, The Triptych x_ '. attempts to sell these signatures always backfired, and soon the vast majority of people gave up and returned the photos to their children.

Unseen, the three walked through London. Crowds parted around them, and people who would usually have caused them trouble seemed to simply look right past them. And so, nobody saw when the three slipped into a darkened alley in suits and a tight dress, and emerged seconds later in hooded garments that cloaked them from view. Nor did they notice when they walked into a building that wasn't there.

The pub was almost deserted, bar from an old man nursing a drink in a darkened corner. Behind the counter, the barman froze in his act of wiping a glass, eyeing them suspiciously. As one, they moved forwards, baring their left forearms to him before the girl spoke.

"Would you be so kind as to let us into the alley, sir? It has been some time since we were here and none of us recall exactly how."

He gave a jerky nod, and seconds later they were stepping into the deserted street. There were few people around, and many shops were boarded up and vacant.

"This isn't at all how I remember it." Commented the boy on the right.

"Voldemort has done more damage than we thought." Agreed the other. They moved quickly into Knockturn Alley, entering a small, almost invisible shop at the end.

"I require the most potent venom you possess."

The shopkeeper looked startled. "I… I sell cauldrons…"

"DO NOT WASTE MY TIME."

The man yelped, and gulped. "I would advise you do not anger my friend. He has a short fuse and has not had the opportunity to… destress, recently." The girl stepped forward, carefully placing a hand on the shoulder of the boy, who shifted back, but didn't lower his glare.

"I… I have a s-s-small amount-t-t o-of Haunt v-v-venom." He stuttered. The trio exchanged a look.

"That will be adequate." The girl eventually inclined her head. "Please ensure there will be no… accidents, won't you?"

"Y-y-yes miss."

Minutes later they were gliding back down the alley. "Death eaters." Murmured the girl, spotting the pair ahead of them. They ducked their heads and simply moved past, resisting the urge to turn around when they felt eyes on them.

"Hey you three!"

The green eyed boy grit his teeth. "Keep moving."

They strode towards The Leaky Cauldron, wincing as shouts echoed behind them, soon accompanied by running footsteps. The girl risked a glance behind them. "Go!"

They took off, crashing into the pub. "Thank you Tom!" the brown eyed boy called as they rushed into the muggle world.

They ran through a series of darkened alleys, using the lack of light to change back into muggle clothes. As such, when they walked calmly into their hotel no one paid them much notice.

"Do you have it?" the green eyed boy asked. The girl withdrew a warded jar and resized it.

"One jar of Haunt venom. Shall we?"

No one noticed that, at the performance two hours later, all of the audience members left with mild headaches.

Two more performances and three days later, the hooded trio were gathered around two small lengths of rope.

The brown eyed boy hoisted a large bag on his back. "Ready?"

"Ready." Confirmed the girl. "Good luck."

"And to you."

She grasped one length of rope, while the boys took the other and they vanished. The boys, to a manor where they entered with wands in one hand and guns in the other, cutting their way silently through anyone who tried to stop them until they entered a grand room with a throne at one end. On it, a pale, snake-like man sat looked at them with some surprise, a snake wrapped around the base of his seat.

"Who-?" he began, but was cut off when he was hit with a powerful stunning spell. The same occurred to his familiar, and carefully the boys began to bind them.

The girl was taken to a small village, on the outskirts where an old, deserted house sat. She entered it without hesitation, climbing down into the tunnel she found there and quickly making her way along until she emerged at the base of a large willow tree. A hit on the knot on the trunk, and she darted out and strode through the night into the castle, her wand in her hand as she made her way along the darkened corridors and halls.

Confusion reigned when she was faced with a blank wall that her wand indicated she should be able to go through.

"Curious." She murmured, her head tilting as she studied the wall in front of her.

"Who are you?" a voice asked form behind her. She turned in surprise, scrutinising the pair in front of her. A slightly-chubby boy was who had spoken, accompanied by a girl with long blonde hair.

"You may call me Triptych." She answered softly. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Luna, and this is Neville."

"You aren't a student." He said warily, his wand sliding into his hand.

"I should think not!"

"You're looking for something." Luna observed.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Yes. Do you know what it is?"

"No. But there are many things in the room of requirement. I imagine that what you seek is there."

"The room of requirement?"

"Luna!" Neville hissed. "She might be a death eater!"

"She isn't." the blonde said confidently. "Pace along this wall three times, thinking of what it is you require, and the room will provide it."

The ebony-haired girl looked dubious, but did as she said, her eyes widening when a door appeared.

"Now isn't that clever?" she murmured. She frowned, however, when she opened the door to reveal a cavernous room crammed full of various items. "Oh dear."

"What exactly are you looking for?" Neville questioned.

"I'm not precisely sure. It is an heirloom." She answered, carefully placing her wand on her palm and murmuring "point me!"

It swivelled, and she began to walk in the indicated direction.

"Who's heirloom?"

"I suppose that depends entirely on your point of view." She answered absently.

Luna looked curious. "How so?"

"It once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. It was stolen by her daughter, and then passed hands until obtained under false pretences by Tom Riddle."

Neville choked. "Riddle?"

"You might know him as Voldemort."

"You are a deatheater!"

"No." she turned to regard him coolly. "I am attempting to stop him. Now please leave so I can concentrate."

"Point me, Ravenclaw's diadem." Luna said calmly.

"I did not mention that it was a diadem."

"Didn't you? This way."

"It might be anything."

"It might." Luna agreed. "But what else could it be?"

Led to where the diadem was hidded, the girl carefully levitated it into a small box she produced from her pocket, tucking it back into the folds of her cloak as they left the room. She glanced out the window, frowning.

"That took longer than I anticipated. I must go. Thank you, Luna and Neville."

"Wait!" Neville called out as she began to walk away. "Who are you exactly? And how is that going to help you defeat you-know-who?"

She paused, turning slightly so that the light glinted off of her crimson lips. "Pray that you never find out."

She turned the corner, but by the time the two blond students had scrambled after her, she had vanished from sight. They exchanged baffled looks, and took off to find a teacher.

The girl walked through the forbidden forest, finding a small clearing not far from the edge where the boys had already begun. They looked up at her approach, frowning.

"Problems?"

"I handled it."

She regarded the unconscious man on the man with an emotionless expression. "I thought he'd be more…"

"Intimidating?"

"Human."

"It's almost midnight." The other boy interrupted. The girl quickly took the diadem and levitated to the empty circle. There were seven smaller circles drawn in chalk to create a larger circle, which Voldemort lay in the centre of.

"Are we ready?" the green eyed boy took his place while the girl shrugged off her cloak, revealing a deep crimson robe underneath.

"We are." She confirmed as she quickly removed her shoes. The shifting of shrubbery in the trees had her frowning. "I believe we are about to have company."

"That why I'm here." The brown-eyed boy had his wand in his hand, and she inclined her head, lighting the candles placed where each of the smaller circles over-lapped.

"Oh earth, we beg your grounding on this night,

Protect us, keep us where we stand.

Fire, we ask you purge us with your light,

Keep from us the darkness that permeates this land.

Air, grant us the power to create our future dream,

Bind to us that which we will need this eve.

Water, cleanse that which is not what it would seem,

Heal that which would be otherwise hurtful to leave.

Spirit, by the power of the stars and the moon,

Grant to us the wisdom we require.

Magic of life, to you which we attune,

We submit ourselves to your maddening gyre.

And magic of death, for you we gladly bleed,

Please give to us that which we want as well which we need."

Blood pooled into the cup she held under the slice she had made into Voldemort's arm, and she flicked it carefully throughout circle, and onto the items enclosed there. On the outskirts, she could see a crowd of people- including Neville and Luna- being held at bay by a powerful shield charm.

She took a deep breath, picking up the warded cup with that Haunt venom and began to trickle it onto the horcruxes, murmuring in Latin.

Black clouds oozed out of the disintegrating items, attempting to leave the circle but it was as if invisible barriers prevented them. With a flash of a knife, the scar on the head of the green-eyed boy was opened and the venom dropped in with careful precision- he screamed, back arching as he writhed, the Latin speeding up as the girl carefully made a thin incision above the heart of Voldemort, holding her hands over it as magic swirled around them, ruffling her skirts and hair.

The same black vapour oozed from the scar and joined the other clouds, forming one large mass that wailed as it veered around the circle, before hovering over the motionless body in the middle. After a long moment, it crashed into the chest and the girl flicked her wand, sealing the incision as the spell died away.

For a long moment, the only sound was the wind whipping through the trees. Amazingly, the candles still burnt brightly.

"Magic of death, thank you for your service this night." A candle extinguished. "Magic of life, we thank you." Another went dark. One by one, each candle was doused. When none were lit, the girl rushed over to the boy on the ground, reaching out to check his pulse with a worried look on her face.

"Everything okay back there?"

Moments dragged past, until the girl looked up, relieved. "Yes. Who wants to kill a dark lord?"

She stood, brushing off her skirt as she withdrew her wand and murmured 'ennervate'.

A groan echoed around the clearing. "Did it work?" the green eyed boy sat up blearily. She nodded. "Excellent."

He pointed his wand at the still unconscious Voldemort. " _Avada kedavra._ "

There were gasps from the people watching as the green light lanced into his body.

"Wonderful. Can we go home now?"

"Please."

"Let's go."

"Wait!" an old man with a long white beard and hair called out, frowning at them. "Who… who are you? Why did you murder him?"

The three simply looked at him. To his left, an older woman with a stern looking face was staring at them in shock, a very short man next to her being made to look much smaller by the giant of a man beside him. On the old man's other side, a greasy looking dark haired man with a hooked nose with sneering at them half-heartedly, his eyes hiding surprise. Behind them, a dumpy looking woman was holding back Neville and Luna, along with three red headed boys and a frizzy haired girl, who had tear tracks on her cheeks.

The girl looked at them coolly. "He was a dark lord. Now he's a dead dark lord. I see no problem."

"But who are you?" the man insisted. He flinched when piercing emerald eyes met his blue ones, condemnation and disgust in the gaze.

The trio all had their hands on another length of rope, and a murmured word had them vanishing, leaving only a whisper on the wind.

"We are The Triptych."


End file.
